Daredevil: Devil in the Dark
by Ali2
Summary: Daredevil stops a robbery in Hell's Kitchen...


The author acknowledges that the name, concept, and descriptions of DAREDEVIL   
are owned by Marvel Comics and that said owner retains complete rights to said   
character. These concepts are used WITHOUT permission for NO PROFIT, but rather   
a strong desire to tell my own tales about a character I've enjoyed over the   
years. This also acknowledges that original concepts presented here are the   
intellectual property of the author.   
  
  
The dance is about to begin again.  
  
The storm raged into Hell's Kitchen with a vengeance, and the streets were   
quickly clearing of respectable people as the pattering droplets and whispering   
winds of the late afternoon gave way to icy torrents of rain and howling gales   
of the early evening. The light gray of the charcoal stained stormclouds   
evolved into a dark soup of ink drenched cotton that settled angrily over the   
night skies of New York. The shadows yawned and stretched and spread themselves   
out, covering the sinners and saints, the wicked and the just, the kings and the   
paupers with the same blanket.   
  
He stands alone, the wind flows around him, the rain kisses his skin hungrily -   
like a lover. He's ready, waiting, eager to begin, but he takes the time to   
absorb his surroundings. Waiting for the right moment to begin the ballet once   
more.  
  
For some, the work day has ended. The trek home from the job winds up in the   
warmth of home and hearth, the comfort of friends and family, the tenderness of   
a lover's embrace, or quiet solitude with a good book, the radio or television.   
For many of New York's citizens, the city that never sleeps slows down just   
enough for everyone to catch their breath and relax before the dawn returns and   
the cycle begins anew.  
  
Lightning flashes from above, he tastes it as it cleaves the skies - a split   
second tear across the gray-black expanse. He smiles, the spotlight has been   
lit, the stage has been set.  
  
He merely waits for his cue...  
  
Elena McCullah was about to lock up her father's grocery store, grateful that   
this would be the last day she'd have to cover for him. Elena's mother and   
father were returning from their vacation to California, a gift from Elena and   
her brothers, Trent and Virgil, for their thirtieth wedding anniversary, and she   
was closing early so she could meet her parents at the airport. Elena was a   
slender woman, twenty six years young, and beautiful for someone who didn't put   
too much stock in her looks. Her mother was of Jamaican descent, which is where   
she got her exotic features, big hazel eyes and dancer's build; from her father,   
Elena inherited a slight southern drawl, caramel colored skin, and quiet   
disposition. Even beyond the hard streets of the Kitchen, Elena turned many   
heads without trying or even noticing, her love affair was with education and   
what Elena considered beautiful was usually found between the covers of books   
written by her idols, Maya Angelou, Nikki Giovanni, Ralph Ellison and many   
others. She had aspirations of becoming an author in her own right someday and   
had begun several manuscripts that evolved as she learned more from her courses   
at NYU. Elena's parents were already predicting great things for their   
daughter's future and offered her all the support they could.  
  
It had been a while since Elena worked in the store, and she had never done it   
alone, but both of her brothers were policemen which left little time for them   
to tend the counter. Both had stuck their heads in the door over the last few   
days to check on her, especially with the rash of hold ups that had hit the   
neighborhood lately. If they stayed more than fifteen minutes, Elena would put   
them to work, so the visits tapered off as the days passed without incident.   
Elena smirked to herself as she remembered making Virgil watch the counter in   
full uniform with an apron on over it. Both of Elena's brothers put up some   
form of mock protest, but did what she asked with the usual playful banter and   
name calling that siblings always did in a close knit family.  
  
All through her childhood, Elena spent every afternoon after school here,   
helping her father and brothers, her father playing jazz by Miles, Dizzy, Bird;   
telling his children stories of seeing these musical giants in his youth when he   
courted their mother. Elena found herself humming some half forgotten melody   
from one of those old songs, allowing herself to be a little girl once more.   
Elena, still humming to herself, was about to go to the door to turn the locks   
and then count out the money from the register when she heard a scuffling noise   
and the tinkle of the bell on the door.   
  
Five young men in dark colored hooded coats stood in the doorway. The lighting   
of the store, the gloom of the deserted, rainsoaked streets outside and the fact   
that the hoods were pulled low over their faces, obscured their features, Elena   
couldn't make out too much beyond the fact that they had chins and at least one   
of them held a gun. The scream came from Elena's lips before the realization   
that the store was being robbed.   
  
"Shut her ass up!" one of the gangsters hissed angrily. The lead man with the   
gun aimed and fired, the roar of the gun drowned out by another flash of   
lightning accompanied by booming thunder.  
  
Outside, and far away, he cocked his head and listened, his body already moving   
to follow the sound back to the source. He had chosen a rooftop that gave him   
the best vantage point to take the stage, to dance once again with danger, to   
tempt fate with the gifts and talents he possessed. He traveled once more where   
angels feared to tread, but where a man without fear was as bad as facing the   
devil himself.  
  
Matt Murdock, clad in the crimson garb of Daredevil, launched himself from the   
edge of the roof and into the night to protect those who couldn't protect   
themselves.  
  
*****************************************************  
  
DAREDEVIL - THE MAN WITHOUT FEAR  
  
In DEVIL IN THE DARK  
  
Written by Ali  
  
Daredevil created by Stan Lee and Lee Elias  
  
*****************************************************  
  
Daredevil spun wildly into the air, unseeing eyes hidden behind blood red   
lenses, using his enhanced senses and incredible agility to cross the distance   
between his rooftop perch and scream he pulled out of the hundreds of other   
random sounds that permeated the air around him. Unlike most of his peers in   
the world of costumed vigilantes, Daredevil was unique. As a child, Matt   
Murdock grew up on the streets of Hell's Kitchen, his father, Battlin' Jack   
Murdock, was a boxer who raised Matt to be compassionate but tough. Jack   
Murdock made a vow to his son; that Matt wouldn't live the same kind of life he   
did, that Matt would have all the chances that Jack didn't get to succeed. Matt   
became an exceptional student and despite his father's concerns, an equally   
exceptional athlete. Jack raised his son to have a sense of morality, fair play   
and ethics despite the elder Murdock's ties to organized crime. One of Matt's   
more selfless acts cost him more than he expected, but gave him more than he   
bargained for.  
  
Matt still remembers with unusual clarity the day he lost use of his eyes. He   
remembers every feature of the elderly blind man's clothing, the spots of rust   
on the right front fender of the truck that barreled out of control at the man,   
the number of scrapes on his hand after he had dove into the old man and pushed   
both of them to safety, the Daily Bugle billboard on the wall that the truck ran   
into, even the shade and intensity of the green tinted radioactive isotope that   
struck his eyes moments after he thought he was safe. What Matt remembers most   
from that day was the blackness that followed, immediate and never-ending.  
  
Though Matt had lost his sight, he had awakened in a hospital with all of his   
other senses amplified to superhuman levels. Touch, taste, smell, hearing; all   
were incredibly sensitive, the initial realization of his newfound abilities   
nearly drove Matt mad and almost overwhelmed him, but slowly he gained control   
over his senses and discovered that he had acquired something new as well. Matt   
called his newfound ability his "radar sense", for lack of a better phrase, an   
invisible force emanating from him, which gave him a 360 degree scope of his   
surroundings. These abilities combined with Matt's heightened reflexes and   
agility made him more formidable than most sighted men of equal physical   
prowess. Matt learned to cope with his disability and continued to pursue his   
education, eventually enrolling in law school.  
  
While Matt studied, Battlin' Jack kept up his work for the mob. Enforcer by   
day, Jack Murdock found release for his own frustration at life by boxing during   
the nights. Jack began to make a name for himself in the ring once again,   
scoring victories against younger men he shouldn't have been able to beat. Jack   
chalked his sudden success to his desire to stay a hero in his son's eyes, Matt   
was the one good thing he had left, the one person he wanted to make proud.   
Unfortunately for Jack, his world fell apart with the revelation that his rise   
to the top in the ring had been engineered by the Fixer, a small time mobster   
and book maker who wanted Jack to take a fall in the biggest fight of his   
career.  
  
Jack Murdock may have been a loser all of his life, but he wasn't going to be a   
quitter. Not in front of his son, not ever again.  
  
Jack's victory that night would've made the headlines if it wasn't for his   
murder that same evening. There was barely enough of Jack left recognizable for   
positive identification. The battered, bloody mess that the police found in the   
alley behind the boxing arena had to be identified by dental records, the   
killer's name may as well have been signed in blood over the corpse. Matt   
Murdock never shed a tear, he never showed any sign of grief outwardly, but his   
desire for revenge burned like blast furnace. On that night, Daredevil was born   
and the underworld had learned to fear the man who had no fear whatsoever.  
  
Daredevil's radar sense was a little fuzzy this evening, severe weather   
sometimes gave his radar trouble, making the impressions less defined, like snow   
on a television. The scarlet clad hero's other senses were working overtime to   
compensate for his less accurate radar. His body twisted in the air,   
Daredevil's hyper-sensitive hearing strained to hear the wind as it swept around   
solid objects, the rain as it struck rooftops, the hoods of cars, the few people   
left on the sidewalk and the streets below. Daredevil's sense of smell sorted   
out the various scents from one another, attempting to pick up some trace of a   
scent that may lead him to the gun he heard fired. On a crosswind, Daredevil   
picked up the faint scent of cordite, he changed the angle of his latest flip so   
that his next bounce would carry him in the direction of the place where the   
shots may have been fired. The scent grew stronger as Daredevil went, he knew   
he'd be there soon.  
  
Elena had managed to drop behind the counter as the first shot was fired. She   
rolled back behind the counter, heading towards the back office, where her   
father kept his revolver. Trent, Virgil and her father had taught her how to   
shoot, if necessary, she'd do what she have to do to stay alive and protect her   
daddy's livelihood.  
  
"Look here, girl!" one of the gang bangers shouted as Elena made it to the   
office, "Come on out, we ain't gonna hurt you!"  
  
Elena responded by firing a few warning shots from behind the half opened office   
door. The resulting shots scattered the gang bangers, behind shelves and   
counters, seeking the nearest safe haven. The banger with the gun lay down   
covering fire which forced Elena to scream again as the wood of the doorway   
shattered over her head. Two more bangers pulled a pair of semi-automatics and   
prepared to pepper the doorway with enough bullets to make certain that the   
young woman would not be able to give the police any kind of information. Even   
with the weather working to their advantage, all of the shooting that had   
happened would be investigated sooner or later. What they didn't consider was   
just how soon someone would come to investigate the situation.  
  
Daredevil didn't bother with a warning, his radar sense had already mapped out a   
sketchy floorplan, allowing him enough time to formulate his plan of attack.   
His final spring from the roof towards the store's entrance was heralded by his   
primary weapon of choice, a specially made billy club which was resilient enough   
to ricochet from the wall over the cash register and strike down the gunman who   
had chosen to hide behind a rack of snack cakes. The club hit the thug in the   
temple with just enough force to drop the man and carom into the gun hand of one   
of the other shooters who had just registered the billy club's entry into the   
situation. His yelp became a scream as his dropped gun misfired into his foot.   
The second thug lay on the floor, whimpering pitifully.  
  
"DAMN!" swore one of the remaining thugs, "It's the Devil, y'all!"  
  
The thug by the cooler, hissed and tried to run for the door, preferring the   
better part of valor, but was knocked back into the room by a solid fist in a   
crimson glove. Daredevil moved gracefully into the door frame, every muscle   
tensed in anticipation of what might happen next. The thug the masked man had   
punched, stumbled back into the doorway and lifted his gun hoping he could nail   
Daredevil before he moved again. Before he could draw a bead, Daredevil had   
already moved to deal with the thug's renewed attack. A swift kick seemed to   
come from nowhere, tearing the gun out of the thug's hand and sent it spinning   
into a corner out of reach among the dog and cat food by the plate glass window.   
Disarmed, the thug swung at the crimefighter, his desire for escape overriding   
his fear of Daredevil's abilities. Daredevil deftly sidestepped the punch and   
leaned forward, stepping past the desperate young man. Still off balance, the   
thug wasn't prepared for the blow to the back of his head as Daredevil's billy   
club finished its wild course through the room. Stunned and senseless, the thug   
fell inches away from the doorway and freedom. Daredevil reached behind his   
shoulder as the club arced back, catching it without looking. The two remaining   
thugs were awestruck by the display, so awestruck in fact that they had stopped   
shooting altogether.  
  
"One chance to surrender peacefully, gentlemen," Daredevil said smiling, "I   
won't make this offer twice."  
  
The thugs looked at each other and then to their fallen associates and then to   
Daredevil once more. Almost in unison, the pair gently lay down their firearms   
and placed their hands on their heads.  
  
"Smart move, fellas," Daredevil commented approvingly.  
  
The Man Without Fear allowed his enhanced senses to stretch out and take in the   
rest of the room. Besides the still excited heartbeats of his opponents,   
Daredevil picked up a final excited heartbeat with his hearing, slowly   
decreasing along with the rapid breathing. The beat was strong, the breathing   
steady; good, the shop's lone defender was unhurt, just scared. Daredevil   
pulled the scent of perfume from the same general direction, it was a woman.  
  
"Miss?" Daredevil said loudly but evenly to calm her. "Miss, everything's under   
control, you can come out."  
  
Elena peeked tentatively from behind the shattered doorway, her father's pistol   
in hand, ready for everything except the sight that greeted her. Elena knew of   
Daredevil as did most New Yorkers, but had only seen him in the papers or as a   
bit of grainy news footage. Despite the violence that had taken place, Daredevil   
had managed to do relatively little damage to the store itself. One of the   
displays were turned over, the young man who had shot himself in the foot was   
getting it bandaged by the masked crusader - the bloody mess from his accidental   
wounding was stemmed for the moment, the others were tied up neatly next to the   
bullet riddled counter. Daredevil rose from his hasty medical work and turned   
his head in Elena's direction.  
  
"Are you okay?" Daredevil asked with a concern that wasn't in his voice when he   
was dealing with the thugs. Whatever passions drove the man to risk his life   
for the sake of total strangers, also drove him to be certain that those under   
his protection were attended to before he left the scene.  
  
"I'm fine," Elena said, amazed at the sudden calmness in her voice. She was   
still stunned at how quickly the whole thing ended, how easily this masked man   
saved her life and her father's livelihood.  
  
"They won't be going anywhere for a while, miss," Daredevil said as he stood.   
"If you'd like I can call the police for you."  
  
"No--," Elena said hesitantly, "I can do that. Thanks. Both of my brothers are   
on the force." Elena picked up the phone and paged both of her brothers using   
the programmed speed dial. Her "911" would have them at the store faster than   
any department dispatcher. She turned to thank her rescuer only to find that he   
had left while she was making the call. She sat down to wait for Trent and   
Virgil to show up and hoped that she'd still be able to pick up her parents on   
time. Though it didn't seem to be logical, Elena smiled, looked out into the   
night and said a soft spoken, "Thank you."  
  
Five blocks away as he stretched in mid leap to fire a line from his billy club,   
Daredevil smiled and replied, "You're welcome."  
  
*****************************************************  
  
The End?  
  
  
  



End file.
